


You've Got That Something

by VerticalMan



Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, tv universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerticalMan/pseuds/VerticalMan
Summary: Micky had always been really close with the other boys. They were all kind of touchy people, and when you got into as many life threatening situations as they did, it no longer felt weird to hang on to your friend when you were scared. Lord knows he had caught Davy jumping into his arms, and he was pretty sure he had jumped into Davy’s in the past too. It didn’t bother him, and he hardly ever thought about how much he touched the other Monkees. Until Mike started holding his hand.
Relationships: Micky Dolenz/Mike Nesmith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	You've Got That Something

**Author's Note:**

> Is this basically a conglomeration of a bunch of different fics I've read elsewhere? Possibly. Does it have a horrible sense of pacing? Absolutely. Am I going to post it anyway because I've already read everything in this tag at least five times? Also yes on that.

Micky had always been really close with the other boys. They were all kind of touchy people, and when you got into as many life threatening situations as they did, it no longer felt weird to hang on to your friend when you were scared. Lord knows he had caught Davy jumping into his arms, and he was pretty sure he had jumped into Davy’s in the past too. It didn’t bother him, and he hardly ever thought about how much he touched the other Monkees. Until Mike started holding his hand.

The first time had predictably been when they were running from monsters. It was just the two of them in this wing of the creepy mansion, and Micky didn't have time to notice when mike grabbed his hand and started dragging him away. It wasn't until they ran into the other guys, literally, that Micky became aware of their still linked hands, and separated them. 

The next time, Micky had been cursed. He'd been looking at a girl, who then turned out to be the daughter of a witch. A very protective witch, who took away his sight when she caught him staring a little too long. He had just been trying to shake things up a little, it was always Davy who got the romantic plots. He woke up in the morning, and when he tried to open his eyes, there was nothing. 

After rubbing his eyes and blinking frantically, he called out for Mike. Mike had apparently already started his day, because it took a while of him yelling before he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. At least he wasn't mute this time, he thought.

"What's wrong Micky?!" Mike said as he ran into the room. 

"I can't see!" He responded frantically, voice high.

"Can't see? Like, you're blind?" 

"Yes! I can't see anything! I thought that witch lady was just crazy!" He reached his hands out in front of himself to emphasize his point and smacked what he assumed was Mike's face. 

"Don't do that." Mike muttered, and put a hand on his shoulder to let him know where he was. "Okay, well let's go tell the other guys and figure out what to do." Micky felt the hand pull away, and frowned.

"Uhh, Mike? I can't see where I'm going."

"Oh, right." Mike sounded sheepish. Micky figured he would go get Davy and Peter and bring them up here to talk, but after a second, Micky felt Mike's hand again, this time grabbing his own hand. For some reason, Micky couldn't manage to mention the easier way when their fingers laced together.

It wasn't easy moving around, and he walked into so many things it was ridiculous, but he felt a lot safer having Mike guide him along. Their hands stayed clasped the whole day, tracking down the witch to try and reverse the curse.

"I swear I didn't mean anything by it." He finished pleading with the witch. He was insanely nervous, but Mike's hand in his was a grounding weight.

"Yeah c'mon, you can't leave Micky like this forever just cause he looked at your daughter for a minute." Mike added in. There was a long silence where Micky hoped she was considering it, before she spoke.

"I can see into your heart, Micky Dolenz." Micky shivered. "Your heart belongs to another. You will be no trouble for my daughter." Micky scrunched up his face and opened his mouth to say his heart didn't belong to anyone, he wasn't in love or anything, when Mike squeezed his hand hard and he thought better of it. "I will release the curse, and you and your long haired weirdo friends will not come near my daughter again." Micky sighed in relief, and heard matching versions from the other three boys.

"Oh thank you ma'am, we'll leave her good and well alone." Mike said. And just like that, Micky could see again. He looked to his side and saw Mike staring back at him with a look of concern that melted into a smile when he saw the recognition in Micky's eyes. He couldn't help but respond with a grin of his own. His hand felt a little cold when Mike pulled away.

There wasn't much of a reason for Mike to hold his hand for a little while after that. Not until Micky finds himself dressing as a girl once again, to get them a gig at a club whose owner thinks a girl will help draw crowds. He was the last one to touch his nose after the owner explained it to him, even Peter catching on quicker. In the end, he probably minded a lot less than the other guys. He liked dressing up and playing pretend, and his clothes this time were a little more comfortable than Mrs. Arcadian’s dress had been. He had to shave his legs, but even that he secretly enjoyed the feeling of a little.

He was pretty convincing, if he did say so himself. Maybe a little too convincing. Just like with Mrs. Arcadian, he soon found men going after him during their breaks. It was flattering to be found attractive, sure, but he was getting a little sick of having to find ways to turn down men and stay ladylike. Several times he considered just pulling off his wig (a much better one than last time) and watching them freak out, but they finally had a steady gig here, and they needed the money, so he needed to keep up appearances.

Just like before, the other Monkees were no help. Davy and Mike giggled to themselves every time Micky got hit on, and Peter would either laugh along with them or forget that it was Micky again and just be confused. It was on their third show at this club that things got a little more unmanageable.

Micky was looking through the selection on their juke box when he felt someone hovering close behind him. It could be one of the guys, they weren’t big on personal space, but it felt unfamiliar. When he turned around it was the club owner, with a hungry look in his eye. Warning bells went off instantly in his head, and he peeked around him to try and find the other Monkees. They were all sitting around a table chatting, and not looking over.

“Hey sweetheart, you’re playing real good tonight.” Micky smiled nervously, and tried to see if he could back up any. No luck, he was pinned.

“Gee thanks-”

“You’ve got a real pretty voice” he continued. “I bet I could make it sound even prettier.” He smiled predatorily, and Micky felt a little sick. Even if he was a girl, he was much too young for this man. But he couldn’t do anything. They  _ really _ needed this job. He was starting to panic, and he looked over towards the guys again.

“Oh, I don’t know- MIKE!” He started off placating, but it turned into a yelp when the club owner started stroking his hair. He was only getting closer. Micky closed his eyes, begging he wouldn’t plant a kiss on him right here. Suddenly though, the presence in front of him backed off a little. And someone was holding his hand.

He opened his eyes and whipped his head to the side to look. And there was Mike, looking well and truly  _ pissed _ . Even if he was often soft spoken, he could be pretty intimidating when it suited him.

“Now Mister, I don’t know what ideas you’ve got into your head about our employment here, but Micky here doing you any ‘favors’ ain’t a part of it.” Micky stared at Mike in awe. Then he looked down to their linked hands. The owner’s eyes followed, and he crossed his arms.

“You didn’t say you two were together.” He said, a little suspicious.

“That’s because we’re professionals,  _ sir _ .” Mike responded, full of venom.

“Well, I apologize. I would never go after a girl who’s spoken for.” He said, putting his hands up in a placating way. Mike didn’t soften. “You’re good for business, so you don’t have to worry about being fired. This cutie really draws the crowds.” Mike’s grip was getting almost painful, and Micky realized he was gonna have to be the one to deescalate this.

“Well, water under the bridge, now that you know me and Mike are together, there won’t be any more problems! We’ll see you next time we have a gig!” He spoke fast and panicked, and had started pulling Mike after him before he even finished speaking. He used his other hand to frantically wave to the other two to follow him out the door and to the Monkeemobile. Normally, he would have gotten in the driver’s seat, but he was shaken, and instead climbed in the back. Mike, seemingly unwilling to let go of his hand yet, followed him. Micky wasn’t sure who drove them back, but they were moving before he knew it. The others didn’t ask what happened, they had watched after Mike ran over. And they knew why he was shaken up, especially Davy, who had been through something remarkably similar.

“What a bastard!” Mike suddenly spoke up. “Even after he said he wouldn’t go after a taken woman, he was still hitting on you.”

“Not to mention how clear it was you were uncomfortable.” Peter added.

“And he was so old! A real creep, that one.” Davy nodded along. Hearing the others speak what he had been thinking was nice, and Mike’s hand in his was a comforting weight.

“I’ll never be pushy towards a girl again.” Micky said solemnly, and then he closed his eyes, resting his head on Mike’s shoulder. No one said anything more until they got back to the Pad, and Micky relished in feeling safe here with his friends.

When they did get home, Micky let go of Mike’s hand as he got out of the car. It made it easier to get out, and he really didn’t have a reason to keep holding it. The danger was gone, they were home. Regardless, he was reluctant too. Maybe he was still a little shaken up. He told the others he was going to go to sleep, and they all agreed that was a good idea. Davy and Peter went off to their room, and Mike followed him up to theirs. But once he got into their room, Micky found that he wasn’t ready to sleep. He sat down on his bed and watched as Mike changed into pajamas.

“Thank you, for rescuing me back there.” He said, and meant it. He didn’t usually like to think of someone who needed saving, but he was more grateful than he could say for the intervention in this particular case.

“Of course, Mick. He was a real creep.” Mike seemed to tense a little, still angry thinking about the situation.

“Yeah, but you and Davy didn’t seem to mind when it was other guys.” It was partly accusing, but mostly just curious. Mike sighed, and when he turned around, Micky thought he might look a little guilty. He crossed the room and sat next to Micky on his bed, as usual without leaving much space between them.

“This guy has power over you though. He’s your employer, and he knew he could use that to his advantage. It’s a real sleazy thing to do, and I couldn’t let him get away with it.” Micky nodded, understanding. Mike chuckled a little. “Man, take that silly thing off.” He said, and reached up to pull off Micky's wig. Huh, he had kinda forgotten he was wearing it.

“Do you really think he meant it when he said he wouldn’t fire us?” Micky asked.

“What? Are you really telling me you want to go back there after he pulled that stunt?” Mike’s eye contact was intense, and Micky found himself looking away.

“Well yeah man, it’s a steady gig.” Mike didn’t respond, and when Micky looked back over to him, his expression was incredulous.

“We are not going back to that club.”

“C’mon Mike, we need the money. Don’t pretend like we can afford to lose this job so I won’t be uncomfortable. You know more than anyone.” Mike was the one to look away this time. “Besides, I can have my boyfriend protect me now.” His tone was teasing, but his smile felt genuine.

“You want to keep pretending to be my girlfriend Mick?” Mike asked.

“Well yeah, it’ll keep the guy off our backs. Plus maybe you’ll scare off the other guys too. All possessive and intimidating.” he grinned and bumped his shoulder against Mike’s.

“I... suppose, if you’re sure it’ll be okay. If he gets fresh again, we’ll be able to find something else.” Micky laughed a little, feeling much lighter now.

“Babe, if he gets fresh again, we’ll have to find something else, cause you’ll beat him up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so pissed.” He laid his head on Mike’s shoulder again. For being such a skinny guy, he had a real comfortable shoulder. “It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me.” He said, softer. Mike didn’t respond, and Micky sat there until he felt Mike shift under him just a little, and he realized he should probably get up and change out of his girl clothes. He sighed and stood up, and Mike followed, getting into his own bed. When he fell asleep, he still felt protected, just having Mike in the room with him.

Micky didn't really keep track of the gig schedule, and as it turned out, they had another one the next day. He didn't  _ really _ want to go back so soon, but he was serious about keeping this job as long as possible. They were finally eating regularly, and Micky wasn't going to be the one to ruin that for them. So he put on a skirt, a blouse, and a wig, and he sucked it up.

The second they walked into the club, Mike grabbed Micky’s hand once again. They hadn’t discussed it beforehand, but Micky found it immediately soothed his nerves. That day, Mike held Micky’s hand whenever they weren’t playing, as well as a very possessive air about him. It was effective, and for the first time since this started, no one hit on him.

As they continued to regularly play that club, and it became clear that the club owner really wasn’t planning on making another serious pass at Micky, Mike lightened up on the constant hand holding a little. It made it easier to do things, but also meant sometimes he would get approached again. Usually by people seeing them for the first time, who weren’t aware of his territorial “boyfriend”. Mike, seemingly feeling bad about all the times he had left Micky to fend for himself, often swooped in right away to assert that Micky was indeed taken, and hold his hand once again. Micky thought it was so funny watching him posture that sometimes he tried to look extra cute during their sets just to see if someone would take the bait.

“Man, why is every guy who comes through here dead set on getting into your skirt, Mick?” Mike asked once, exasperated after yet another man had been a little too forward towards Micky.

“I don’t know Nez, it’s not my fault I just make a much prettier chick than I do a handsome man.” It was a little baffling, honestly. He supposed it probably had to do with his naturally high voice and slightly feminine way of acting. Worked well for pretending to be a girl, but not to being an attractive “manly” man.

“Aw, I think you’re plenty handsome.” For some reason, that made Micky blush.

“Thanks Mike.” He said, smiling, noticing suddenly they were standing nearly nose to nose. He detached and walked over to the other guys, and Mike eventually followed.

Somehow, that interaction loosened something in his head, and suddenly, he was thinking about what he was doing with Mike. Really thinking about it. He was holding hands with another man, was pretending to date him. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought he enjoyed it. Thought maybe he wasn't just hoping to see Mike act all jealous just because it was funny. The revelation shook him, and he was a little out of it for their second set. Mike started sending him worried looks, and Micky was both flattered that Mike could tell he was off, and even more freaked out.

Right after their set ended, Mike pulled him aside. "Hey Mick, you feeling alright?" Micky felt himself calm a little at Mike's very genuine concern. Maybe it made sense that he might like Mike, when Mike was so good to him. He smiled at Mike, and saw Mike visibly relax, which only made him smile more.

“Yeah babe, I’m alright, I was just a little distracted for a bit.”

“Well alright.” Mike casually took his hand as they started to make their way out of the club, done for the night. “You know, I think we’ve got enough saved up now that we can quit this job.” He said.

“Really? Don’t you want to keep going as long as we can?” Mike was all about financial stability where they could find it. Micky was suddenly sure Mike had somehow figured out what Micky had just figured out, and was disgusted. Wanted to drop the charade as soon as possible. But then he figured if Mike wasn’t disgusted, he wouldn’t be holding his hand right now. It wasn’t exactly necessary at the moment. The panic was gone just as fast as it had arrived.

“Well I didn’t imagine you would want to keep dressing as a girl forever.” Mike said. And on that front, he was right. It was fun every once in a while, but even his shaved legs had lost their novelty and just become work. It was just the situation with Mike that was still interesting. And he just learned something that would make him appreciate it even more.

...Maybe they should stop. Maybe if he went back to being a boy full time, Mike would be back off the table and Micky could forget about these new confusing feelings. It would be easier that way.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. And I bet we’ll find something soon, we’re in such good shape from all these gigs.” He held on to Mike’s hand this time until Mike let go to drive, trying to savor the feeling before it was gone. Just one last time, and then he would work on forgetting he ever had a revelation at all.

They do stop working at that club, but surprisingly, the hand holding doesn’t stop. Well, at least not fully. It’s about a week later when Micky is practically vibrating with energy, having drunk several cups of coffee. His hands can’t seem to stay still, and he’s drumming with his fingers on just about every surface he can reach in the living room. Davy glares at him, and Micky stops for a moment, but next thing he knows he’s doing it again. And then Mike grabs his hand.

“Don’t do that.” He says, and Micky whips his head around to look in Mike’s eyes, which are annoyed, but also twinkle with fondness. Mike interlaces their fingers, and Micky stops fidgeting.

In the same way the hand holding didn’t really go away, neither did Micky’s feelings. They weren’t necessarily all encompassing, he didn’t spend all day moping around, wishing he could kiss Mike. But every so often he would look at Mike and feel butterflies. Wonder if there was any chance Mike could feel the same way. He never initiated hand holding, just in case. Mike likely didn’t mean it in that way, and Micky would always,  _ always _ , prefer being friends with him and the other guys than risking it on a possible relationship. They were everything to him.

That didn’t stop him being hyper aware of all the times Mike initiated it though. And it had only been getting more frequent, and less necessary. Yeah sure sometimes the hand holding was to drag him along when they were running from the villain of the week, but sometimes it was just when they were watching a scary movie and Micky jumped. And sometimes he would grab Micky’s hand for a quick squeeze to tell him silently  _ shut up _ when his rambling was about to get them in trouble, but continue to hold on for a few minutes afterwards for seemingly no reason. It’s things like this that make him think, just maybe, he had a chance.

The breaking point was one of the few boring days they had in the Pad. No curses, no gangsters, no plots, just the four of them hanging around in the pad or on the beach. Mike had been playing guitar in the living room, trying to write a song, and Micky decided to go sit near him while he read. He loved listening to Mike play. He was deep into the story of the current sci-fi book he was reading when the guitar stopped, and the TV started. And not long after that, he felt the very familiar sensation of Mike’s hand in his. No reason apparent. Micky very suddenly couldn’t handle it anymore, and put his book down to tap Mike’s hand and get his attention.

“What’s up darlin’?” Mike asked, looking over at him. Micky was going to just ask him about it, figure out if he realized he was doing it, but that name got him.  _ Darlin’ _ . It sounded so sweet and so perfectly Mike that before he knew he was going to do it, he was kissing Mike. He pulled back before Mike could either respond or push him off.

“Micky?” Mike said, sounding kind of dazed. Micky steeled his nerve and looked at Mike to try and gauge his mood. He looked kind of dazed too.

“You called me darlin’,” He said softly, like that was an explanation. “And you held my hand.” Mike gave a small smile.

“I suppose I did. And you kissed me.” Micky was trying to figure how he should apologize for making assumptions when Mike continued. “Would you mind doing it again?” Micky smiled wide, and when he went in for a second kiss, they were both grinning so much it wasn’t much of a kiss. But it was perfect.

“I am never letting go of your hand ever again, darlin’.” Mike said when they’d pulled back once more.

“Good, cause I’ll be holding on tight.” Micky said, and everything was perfect.


End file.
